Four little monkeys

Before Topher was born Jay and I used our tax return to buy a new bed. Not just any bed- a King size lodgepole pine canopy bed that is so high off the ground I can’t get into it without climbing up on one of the pine poles that runs the length of the mattress. We chose this particular bed because we loved the way it looked but we had practical intentions as well – at least that’s what we told ourselves. Jay and I had very strong views on whether or not to have our children sleep with us. Never! was the oft-spoken word when the subject of co-inhabitation of the bed came up. We chose the high bed assuring each other that it would be impossible for our future youngsters to scale this alp of a bed. Ha! Ha-ha! Hee-hee-hee-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho! Ha-ha-ha-hee-hee-ha-ha-ha. Ha-ha. Ha-ha. Ha. Ahem! Not only can the children get up onto the bed, they love to climb about and swing like monkeys from the canopy poles which run all the way around the top of what is intended to be a restful place. We didn’t purchase a bed, we bought McDonalds’ playland. Even the baby can climb up by grabbing two handfuls of blanket and walking up the side of the bed like a rock climber.

After the initial shock we’ve discovered we enjoy the Saturday morning snuggles that occur when the children wander in – warm-bodied and groggy – wanting to be close to us. In addition to this pleasure, many interesting and energetic games have been invented on the family bed. In one wrestling match between Topher and I when he was 4 years old I pretended he had pinned me and ceased my struggling. Raising a fist in a gesture of triumph he proudly cried, “The Lord has delivered you into my hands!”

One of our most popular games is called “Marshmallow Monkey.” I have no recollection of how this name came about but there it is. The game consists of me, positioned in the center of the bed, trying to grab, pin, tickle, kiss, zurbert or any combination of the above while the “monkeys” dive screaming and throwing themselves from one end of the bed (base) to the other (also base). When one monkey is trapped and undergoing the tickling/kissing torture it is not uncommon for another monkey to come to the rescue by flinging his body on the attacker and tickling the tickler. In a particularly exuberant version of this game each of the boys had their own terry cloth tie knotted over the canopy poles. These ties assumed the role of vines and the boys swung out in gallant fashion. I speak in the past tense of these vine accessories because they no longer exist. In an unbelievable twist of fate both vines broke on the same day within fifteen minutes of each other and have never been replaced. Sadly, they both expired on the outward swing sending their urban Tarzans off in a most distressful manner.

Topher is eleven now with two younger brothers and a sister and the bed is beginning to show signs of wear. Even the smallest swinger causes the bed to sway gently from side to side and so we’ve put the Kaibash(sp) on swinging and climbing on the bed. And strangely, contrary to my strong preparenthood ideals, I feel a little sad that there’ll be no more monkeys jumping on the bed.